


The monster sings

by queenofseventeen



Series: The domestic life of Minyard-Josten [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew can sing, M/M, Short Depiction Of Violence, andrew doesnt like neil hearing him sing, neil gets sick for a paragraph, neil likes andrew singing, nothing to graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofseventeen/pseuds/queenofseventeen
Summary: Singing is something Andrew likes and everything Andrew liked had been taking away from him before. So when people hear him sing he cuts it off afraid it would be taken, belittled, it’s worth taken away. But Andrew cares about Neil and Neil has never left so maybe he can sing for Neil.





	The monster sings

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably come back to edit this later but I had to get it out of my system so I could work on my other projects

Neil got to leave practice earlier. His coach saw him limping for only a couple of seconds after he got decked a bit too hard and send him home. Neil wasn’t of any use on his court if he couldn’t walk. Neil scoffed as he slid the key into the front door of his and Andrew’s shared apartment. Silently he opened it, stopping when he heard the sounds.

Andrew had always denied talking to the cats, he had always denied he would ever sing too. That’s why Neil thought it was the radio at first but there was no static, no indication that the sound was going over the stereo. Then he realized it was Andrew. Neil didn’t recognize the song but he noticed how Andrew’s voice went up and down with the lyrics, how he followed his own beat. Neil stood there listening for a minute. Andrew sounded like an angel and Neil was almost sure that Andrew would never sing again if he knew Neil was listening.

 

The next time Neil heard Andrew singing was a couple weeks later. Neil had been in bed ill for the past two days, fading in and out of consciousness from the heat his skin radiated. Andrew must’ve thought Neil had been sleeping because he could hear him singing with the faint sound of the shower mingling in to make their own song. A melody of pattering water and deep tones. Neil let it lull him and before the water cut off he was asleep again.

 

There was one more time where Neil could hear Andrew sing. It was when Neil wasn’t supposed to be home yet. His game got cancelled and Neil was allowed to go home, to go to Andrew. He had just sat down on the couch with coffee when he heard keys jiggle. His head perked up when the first words of Andrew’s song hit him. It hit him almost as hard as the sudden silence when Andrew caught him sitting on the couch. “You’re home,” Andrew said.

“I like your singing,” Neil answered.

“You’re not supposed to be home. Did your coach finally have enough of your big mouth?”

“Why do you never sing?” Neil followed Andrew into the kitchen. He sat down on one of the bar stools as he watched Andrew unload the groceries. Vegetables that Neil would be forced to eat, seven tubs of ice cream, apples, strawberries, potatoes. 

“No.” Neil shut up. He stood up from the barstool and helped load the groceries into the fridge. He looked at Andrew and took a step closer. He leaned forward till he could let Andrew make the choice. Andrew said yes.

 

Andrew hadn’t sung in weeks. Neil had only once more asked about it. Andrew had shut him down as soon as the words left his mouth and Neil hadn’t brought it up since. He missed the deep tones of Andrew’s voice as they carried a melody that mixed with his every day routine. 

But today hadn't been a good day for Neil. In all honesty this week hadn't been good to him. Some reporters had dug up some more information on his past. Some had been speculating about where he had been all those years and in the back of his head Neil could hear his mother’s voice and his father’s voice and the crawling sensation of knives danced over his skin every time he came near a reflective surface. 

He had tried to sleep through it many times. He didn't want to wake Andrew up but tonight had been worse than anything else. It wasn't really a memorie. It was a nightmare. Neil wasn't in his shared apartment in New York. Neil was in Baltimore. He wasn't the one being tortured but he felt slim fingers clamping down on his arms hard enough that it bruised. He heard Lola whisper into his ear about how he should've watched over his boyfriend better. That he deserved to see Andrew being cut up until it was time for Neil to die too. He had to listen to Andrew's manic laughter as if he had never been let off his drugs.

And then he was back. He was back in his bed in New York arms around his torso as he was hoisted in a sitting position. He knew this wasn't Andrew's preferred method. Liking to keep a bit of distance since neither liked to be touched after nightmares. Only this time all Neil could do was sob and scream and try to get free and claw the scars of his face. He couldn't concentrate. Couldn't do anything till Andrew turned him around so he could see Andrew. See that he was alive and well and his eyes stood wider than normal and Neil could read the fear from years of being next to Andrew. The exposure making him familiar with the small hints at feelings.

Andrew put his hands on Neil's neck and pulled him forwards till his forehead was leaning against Andrew's shoulder. And slowly, in the most quiet tones a song spilled from Andrew's lips.

Neil didn't recognize the song. He never did. He didn't even listen to the words. He just stilled in Andrew arms and listened to the song on the melody of his heart beat. On the melody of their lives. Never ordinary and never boring. 

The sounds kept spilling until Neil was nodding off against Andrew. "Why don't you ever sing?" Neil asked.

"I just don't."

"I like you singing."

"Than I'll sing for you only." And the cats Neil thought. Just for me and the cats. Just for our little family. Our little home. He was glad that Andrew would only sing for him and as they lay down his back pressed against Andrew's front and words started spilling until he lulled into sleep he wondered again why Andrew had never sung before because next to him lay an angel and it was all Neil ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Andrew cares about singing and is afraid it will be taken away. But he also cares about Neil and Neil has never left him. Maybe Andrew can learn to sing in front of Neil.
> 
> \- @queen-of-seventeen


End file.
